One Nation

Red and blue both swirl to purple,
As the bird unites the people:
“Velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er”
Edgar Allan interjects and continues on some more,
“Nameless here for evermore
San Fran–and cheer Baltimore!”

Ravens for Life CAW CAW

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All Things Equal

Look at all the angles

Call it what you will, it’s still the same.
The cinderblocks all stack upon each other,
The bells ring softly, fool begins to smother.
Don’t ever lie to watchful mathematician;
He’ll find the truth like x in an equation
And let you know your words just don’t add up.

April 28 National Blog Tour: Bird Poems

—-April, as many of you know, is National Poetry Month, and Serena from Savvy Verse & Wit organized a national blog tour in celebration.  Although the month is nearly over, you can check out the schedule here  and visit all the other poets who have contributed.  Don’t miss out!
—-I’m still not quite sure how I stumbled upon the opportunity to be a part of this unique event, but I agreed to host a leg of the tour and showcase some bird poems.
—-Poetry, for me is something that should be full of life and powerful, able to lift you to new heights of wonder and give a fresh perspective on the world below:

Poems are like birds, the words fly free;
Even caged they sing a different tune:
The avid watcher knows them all by name,
While casual observer invents new.
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That’s Not Flying

Today it is gorgeous outside, a balmy 65 degrees and it’s still early morning.  While waiting for my class to begin I wandered out to the balcony-type landing overlooking the side of the mountain.  Anxieties of the near-future uncertainties were snatched up and put on hold.  I took in the birdsong and the dancing trees in the mellow breeze.  (Breezes aren’t always mellow, but this one was particularly so.)  As my eyes traveled down the trunks of the closest trees I noticed a gardener down below, diligently weeding.  It was Silas, a fellow poet.  I looked around for something to throw, to voice where I was.  Someone had left a cup of ice cream which had solidified into a sticky lump around the spoon.  I picked it up, brushing ants off my hand, and tossed it in his direction.  Startled, he looked suspiciously up at the windows above him.  I frantically waved until he saw me and waved back.  Satisfied, I retired to a nearby bench.  Thought thunder struck—a flashback to reading Poe’s The Pit and the Pendulum in a cozy room at night.  Me: reading aloud.  You: interpreting verbose prose into rudimentary phrases.  And through a synthesis of all those events I wrote this simple verse:
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Buckle Up

The whispered tones fell on deaf ears; I was a thrill-seeker and here were the thrills.  Thousands of them, but I sought out the ones worthwhile.  Time is too precious to waste on some lame tame baby ride.  I stalked my prey with the skill of a half-starved cheetah, and twice as fast.  I rushed headlong into awaiting queue, but waiting was not what I had planned to do.  Throwing caution to the wind I loudly exclaimed,

“These books, please, to-go
Auden, Millay, Herbert, Poe–
I’m the wordcoaster!”

Written for The Haiku Challenge 2012 – Day 28 – February 28th – Theme or Word: YOUR BLOG NAME FORM: Haiku + Form of your Wish

Cask of Amoncherie

Give me what I’m longing for
I’m sick for it; I need it
I’m shaken to the core now
I’ll kill for it; I need it
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The Pithy Pendulum

“Your honor, may I present the evidence against this man?”
He presents her photo album, the 4,000 words blaspheming my name.
“There’s an angel in this court”
I repeat optimistically for the 170th time
“Please keep your hands down and stop raising your voice”
The judge bangs his gavel
Law 108: How to be dead.
More

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Because Russ L asked

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